


summer heat

by lilithqueen



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut, kink meme fill, this is really shameless porn tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithqueen/pseuds/lilithqueen
Summary: Jaina/Kael, kink meme fill! "No matter how kind and clever and intelligent and earthshakingly beautiful she was, you did not tell your friend and student how much you adored her scarcely six months after her near-fiancé dumped her, not if you wanted to keep that friendship. Because that would be creepy."Kael'thas is wrong about that. Jaina is very happy to put an end to her intense sexual frustration centered around pretty elves and show him just how wrong he is. Especially if it gets him to bend her over a table.





	

“If you shift this rune two degrees to the left, you can dispense with the arcane crystals entirely, don’t you think?”

Kael’thas frowned down at the portal spell outlined in the book in front of him, trying to think past the intoxication of Jaina in his study, pressed against him on his couch as she leaned over for a look at the page. “Yes, that…that would work.”

She glanced up at him, brow furrowed. “…What? What’s that face for?”

His ears shuddered, but he schooled his face to perfect calm. “Nothing, only—it has always been done this way, and I’m sure my old tutors would have fits if they saw.”

She huffed, “Just because it’s ‘always been that way’ isn’t a good enough reason, if you ask me.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “And you’re right. This is a much more elegant way of doing it; I never would have thought of it.” And one which he was quite sure no hidebound elven mage would have considered. Trust Jaina to come up with such a clever way of doing things! But then, her intelligence was one of the many things he loved about her.

—Oh. Yes. She was smiling now, pleased with his praise, and the enormity of his feelings hit him like an unexpected riptide. He _did_ love her.

And he couldn’t tell her, because she’d only recently broken things off with that cad (he had made her _cry_ ; she had been unable to stop the tears when she’d told him and if Arthas Menethil had shown his face in that moment he would have gladly incinerated him) and however much he wished there wasn’t, there _was_ a line of common decency. No matter how kind and clever and intelligent and earthshakingly beautiful she was, you did not tell your friend and student how much you adored her scarcely six months after her near-fiancé dumped her, not if you wanted to keep that friendship. Because that would be _creepy_.

Which he decidedly did not want to be, even as he cursed himself for being unable to tear his gaze away from her body as she rose to put back the book they’d been referencing from. In deference to the summer’s heat, she wore no robes, but her sleeveless top revealed inches of her soft skin every time she moved and was cut low enough that he was intensely aware of her breasts every time she breathed. Her skirt wasn’t much better; it brushed her ankles when it was arranged properly, but the masses of thin, flowing silk twisted around her legs when she sat in a way that gave him a very good idea of their shape. And it did absolutely nothing at all to insulate him from the heat her body threw off; when she’d sat down next to him on the couch, her thigh pressed against his, he’d had to curl his nearest hand into a fist to stop himself from giving into the urge to slide his fingers along the inside of it, press against the heat between her legs until she writhed. _I’d make it so good, Jaina, I’d have you coming until you couldn’t think straight, until…_

(At least it was a long skirt. The week before she’d come to discuss spellwork in one that had barely skimmed her knees, and he’d been unable to look at her without the traitorous thought that it would be so easy to set her on his desk (he would need to, she wasn’t tall), flip that fabric up, and take her to pieces with his mouth or fingers or cock. He’d encased himself in a block of ice for a full minute after she’d left, but the sight of her leaning on the corner of his desk, voice hesitant as she asked, _Kael, what about Meitre’s Mystical Teleportation?_ seemed to be seared into his mind.)

She was bracing herself with one knee on the couch opposite his, leaning up to set the heavy tome back in exactly the spot she’d taken it from; he bit his lip and tried very hard to think of unpleasant thoughts. Any moment now she’d have to turn back around, and there was no way to hide his erection in these summer-weight trousers, not with the way they’d situated the nearest reading table. _Sun—Light, if you love anyone, please let her be distracted by books a moment longer._

Evidently, the Light hated him, because she was turning around.

&

Jaina hated summer.

Not for the heat, or the humidity, or the way she freckled explosively in bright sunlight. Those things were annoying, but they weren’t nearly as hateable as the one, single, searingly frustrating problem that was Kael’thas’ idea of summer attire. The shoes were alright—flat slippers, almost simplistic if they weren’t embroidered with seed pearls or rubies or glittering blue-green gems that matched his faintly glowing eyes. It was everything north of that which made her burn.

Not that Kael wasn’t just as handsome in heavy silks and brocade, rings on his fingers and gold woven through his golden hair, but it was a more remote, untouchable beauty. Prince Kael’thas Sunstrider, heir to the throne of Quel’thalas, was expectedly attractive. She’d seen men like him all her life at her father’s court.

…Well, alright, _that_ was a lie. Other men had had his wealth, his height, his golden hair, but there had been none that combined them with such a keen, focused intellect, nor any that had been so stimulating to converse with. She thought she could probably live off their conversations, letting them replace bread and wine. Arthas had been a plodding mule in comparison; once the hurt had begun to fade, she honestly couldn’t recall what had been so appealing about him.

Anyway.

The prince of Quel’thalas was beautiful. But Kael, in his loose, lightweight trousers and linen shirts so fine they turned nearly transparent when the light hit just right, was _hot_. The pants were bad enough, embroidered linen loose enough to only leave her with frustrated suggestions of the lean muscles beneath them (and not nearly loose enough to stop her from noticing when fabric shifted, when she moved a certain way and she was _sure_ from the sudden tightness in his jaw and the stiffness of his ears that he was taking very firm notice indeed). The shirt, somehow, was even worse; it covered him from the chin down, but that was only if the warmth of the day and the desire to spare his cuffs from the dust of old manuscripts hadn’t seen him rolling his sleeves up past his elbows as he’d done earlier, revealing toned forearms that had made her entirely forget how she’d planned to end her sentence. And the thin fabric did nothing, nothing at all, to make her less aware of the muscles in his torso.

It had been impossible to ignore Arthas’ even if she’d wanted to, back then. Kael’s were subtler, anchored to a narrower frame, but once you knew they were there it became much easier to fully appreciate those moments when he stretched and sighed, rolling the cricks out of his neck after hours of bending over heavy tomes. Kael was like that, in general; Arthas had been loud and forceful, pushy with his every action, but Kael’thas…if she hadn’t noticed his ears, she might have gone months thinking of him as utterly stoic and reserved.

In retrospect, she thought it was probably the ears that had alerted her to the notion of Kael desiring more than her friendly companionship. Of course she’d taken a course on elven biology, in the same way she’d taken courses on nearly everything in her first year, but it had still been a mild surprise to discover that when old Arcanist Elefteria had used words like _mobile_ and _responsive to emotional state_ , she had actually meant it. When she’d told Kael about Arthas his face had been appropriately sympathetic, but his ears had pinned back flat against his skull and he’d looked so like an angry cat that she’d half expected hissing. Since then she’d watched him, and she’d _noticed_. They twitched upright when he was interested, drooped when something upset him, flickered wildly when he was startled—and they rotated, always, in the direction of her voice when she spoke.

(She wondered if they were as sensitive to touch as she’d heard.)

They’d been doing that all afternoon, as she’d utterly lost herself in conversation with him. It had almost been distracting enough for her to forget how intoxicating she found him, even with their legs pressed together on the couch and the vague, half-formed idea that if she was only brave enough, she could…

Light above, she was really glad he couldn’t see her face right now. But there was only so long she could pretend to be absorbed by studying the spines of all the books in his study, and so she was forced to turn and look back at him.

He wasn’t looking at her, but the expression on his face was one of such studious blankness that it would have been suspicious even without the redness along his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. Her gaze automatically flicked down to his lap, and she took a slow breath at how the fabric now strained against the outline of his cock. “…Oh, goodness.”

He made an almost pained sound, and she didn’t need to lift her gaze to know his ears were pinned back. By his side, his fingers dug into the cushions so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “I beg you, forgive this—“

She made herself meet his eyes, taking a few steps forward. “…What if I don’t want to?”

The look on his face suggested he was reconsidering plans to flee, but that they were still very much on the table. “Jaina?”

“I am not blind, Kael.” She definitely wasn’t, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at his lap again—Light, if she could judge his size at all through his pants, his cock was probably bigger than Arthas’, and the thought of it filling her up almost made her whimper.

He swallowed hard, ears flicking. “I don’t want to push you—”

“Just because my—my _arousal_ is less visible than yours, that doesn’t mean I want you less.” _I need something he can’t ignore._ Mentally cursing the amount of fabric in her skirt, she hoisted it up to her waist, pushing past the brief spark of embarrassment at the way his gaze snapped to her creamy thighs before she straddled his hips, deliberately grinding herself against his erection.

His rough groan was sweet to her ears, but the way he arched against her was better. “Ah, _Jaina_ …”

She sat back, sliding her palms up his chest; his shirt was soft against her skin, and she could feel his heart pounding as she reached for the buttons, opening them slowly. “Kael.” Pop. “I have been,” –pop—“wanting you for _months_ ,”—pop—“and if you keep me waiting—”

Whatever she was going to say flew out of her mind entirely, because Kael’thas clearly did not intend to keep her waiting at all. He finally loosened his death grip on the couch cushions only to pull her close, one hand splayed on her bare back and the other cradling the back of her neck as he kissed her ferociously. She melted into it, finding herself making desperate little moans and whimpers as she kissed him back and rolled her hips against him. Held so closely, it was harder for her to continue unbuttoning his shirt, but she didn’t mind; she could slide her arms around his neck instead, and it was _much_ easier from there for her to lift a hand and caress the edge of one ear.

His reaction was immediate and gratifying; he broke their kiss, head falling back, and breathed out a shaky murmur of Thalassian she was _sure_ was profane. “ _Oh_.”

She grinned at him, leaning in to nip at his earlobe. “You like that.” It wasn’t a question and it didn’t need to be; when she rubbed her thumb teasingly all the way up his ear, he bucked his hips hard under her and she couldn’t stop her gasp. She’d never been so wet without being touched; it threatened to soak the thin cotton of her underwear.

“You are a _tease_.” His voice was low and rough as he undid her bra one-handed, clasps falling open easily and allowing him to get his hands on her breasts. He was gentler than she’d expected, but still ran his thumbs over her nipples just hard enough to make her moan and squirm in his lap. “You know very well…”

“Ahhhh…” The urge to continue her explorations was intense (there was a spot just where his jaw met his throat that looked in dire need of being bitten) but there was a more pressing matter to attend to; pulling away, she all but tore her shirt and bra off, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. He took only a moment to gaze at her, eyes gleaming, before lowering his head. He couldn’t quite get his mouth on her breasts from their current position, but her neck and shoulders and collarbone were all evidently fair game; as he nipped and mouthed a trail down her throat she squealed and bucked, feeling him grow ever harder against her as she sought some friction in return.

He was growling in Thalassian as he molested her, groping and squeezing her tits; she caught snippets she was sure she recognized as _how beautiful you are, how warm and sweet_ and _sun above, Jaina, I want you_. It was enough to make her whimper, but there was something nagging at the back of her mind, some particular thought she’d been wanting since the first time she’d seen him out of robes.

“Nnh, wait…” Steeling her resolve, she pulled away and slithered off his lap, dropping to her knees between his legs. Even through the fabric of his pants, heat radiated from his cock. With his tool a scant few inches from her face she could almost smell him, and she took shameless advantage of the chance to nuzzle her lips against it.

He sucked in a breath above her, sounding shocked even as his fingers started to comb through her loose hair. “Light in heaven, Jaina, you don’t have to—”

She pressed a kiss to his balls, feeling the jolt that ran through him. “I want to. Can I?” At his strangled noise of assent, she undid his pants, letting his cock spring free. It was _definitely_ bigger than Arthas’ had been, thick and solid with a slight upwards curve that she could already tell would feel incredible inside her pussy; the balls beneath it were a good handful, and she took a moment to roll them against her palm before leaning in for a teasing lick to his shaft. He was much less hairy than Arthas, too, which was another elven thing she was rather pleased to have confirmed as truth. “Mmm. A nice staff for a mage…”

“Jaina!”  The sound he made was almost a laugh, but it trailed off into a moan as she took his cockhead into her mouth and sucked firmly, licking as much as she could while she tried to work her lips down his shaft.  “Ah, fuck, that’s good, just like that…” Fingers tightened in her hair and tugged lightly, encouraging her head further down but still leaving her plenty of slack to bob on his cock.

She’d read of women who could swallow a man’s entire cock down to the root, but her efforts to do the same had only ever made her cough; still, she relaxed her jaw and gave it her best try. The blunt head passed the back of her throat and she choked, pulling back and redoubling her efforts as she stroked and fondled his balls and the bit of his shaft she simply couldn’t fit. “Ngk! Mmmm…” The heat and the taste of him, the feel of soft skin and the first salty hint of precum—it was almost too much. When he rocked his hips, pushing his cock further into her throat, she moaned around it. “Mmph! Mm…” He was close, and she felt her breasts bounce as she slid her mouth furiously up and down his cock.

His voice was ragged, and he suddenly tugged hard on his fistful of her hair. “ _Jaina_ —nnh, _wait_. If you keep doing that, I won’t last…”

She’d wanted to taste his cum, but she pulled away anyway and rested her cheek on his thigh, wiping her mouth carelessly on the back of her arm. _I must look like a cheap harlot._ She didn’t feel like one, though; he was gazing down at her as though she held the secrets of the universe, and it only made her hornier. “Hrmmm. How do you want me, then?”

He was red all the way to the tips of his ears, breathing hard. “Oh, gods.” Seemingly at a loss for words, he gestured for her to stand. “There, that table, if you sit on it…”

She eyed the table in question. It was a sturdy piece of furniture, designed not to wobble under the weight of stacks of books. “…I’d rather you bend me over it. Will that work?”

“Sun’s _light_. Yes, yes, that would work…”

She stood up, shivering in anticipation. Bent over, with her weight resting on the table and her toes unable to touch the floor, she’d be utterly at his mercy—a scenario she’d spent long hours thinking about in the privacy of her chambers. Her fingers shook as she undid the buttons holding up her skirt; it was far too unwieldy for a situation like this. Her underwear followed; as it hit the floor, Kael’thas got to his feet and stared, gaze lingering on her breasts and the close-cropped honey-blonde curls between her legs.

“You are glorious as the Sunwell.”

She took a breath, slowly, and grinned at him. “You don’t need to say that to get me into bed, you know.”

He laughed and pulled her into his arms, kissing her briefly and heatedly before stepping away; she hurried to sprawl herself on the table, propping herself up on her elbows with her legs hanging over the edge. To her surprise, a padded stool appeared just under her knees; she had a fleeting moment to marvel at Kael thinking of her comfort before thought vanished at the feeling of fingers sliding over her sopping wet cunt. “Ah!”

His long hair brushed her back as he pressed himself closer, voice a low purr of arousal as those clever fingers teased her. “You were truly enjoying yourself, weren’t you?”

He was rubbing lightly along her clit and labia without ever actually entering her, and the delicious torment made her writhe; when she found her voice, it was a snarl. “Yes—Kael, please, just fuck me!”

“Mmm. As my darling wishes.” There was a rushed incantation—there would be no children from this coupling—and she was incredibly glad he remembered it because she certainly couldn’t think of anything beyond _yes_ and _hurry_.

And then he braced himself with a hand on the table beside her, hilting himself in her with one smooth motion, and she squealed at the sudden fullness. “Ah!” From this angle he felt even bigger than he had in her mouth, and her legs trembled as she adjusted to being so thoroughly opened up by his cock.

He breathed out harshly, shifting his weight; the slight drag of his cock pulling back sent a lovely little shockwave through her. “Ngh. Good?”

At her rapid nod he thrust forward again, but it wasn’t enough, and she almost babbled her encouragement. “Very, just—please move, please fuck me, I—ah!” His next thrusts were harder and deeper, sliding past her G-spot with every stroke, and she was suddenly glad for that conjured stool; it gave her something to brace herself against, ass jiggling in time with the steady pounding he was subjecting her to.

He growled, grabbing at her hip with his other hand as he leaned back, pulling half out of her before sliding back in. “Light, Jaina, you’re so—gods, hot and wet for me—” As achingly aroused as she was, it was easy for him to keep up the pace, each thrust seeming to open her up deeper as he drove her towards climax.

A particularly hard thrust made her see stars, and she keened in pleasure as he kept going. Her head dropped to rest on the table, letting her focus on the feeling of his cock slamming into her, balls pressing against her clit each time he slid home. “Fuck, Kael, just—harder, faster—” He wasted no time obliging, increasing his speed until she wasn’t even sure when each individual thrust bottomed out, only of the rising waves of pleasure as he fucked her brains out. “Ahhhh…! More, more, _please_ …”

He gave it to her, exactly as she begged for—more, harder, faster, snarling to be heard above her gasps and squeals. “Come for me, I want to feel you.”

The order was almost unnecessary, but it was well-timed; he was fucking her towards climax anyway, and when he lowered his head to nip sharply at her shoulder she squeezed his cock hard, the mingled pleasure and pain sending her hurtling over the edge. “Yes, yesyesyes oh Light, Kael—!” Thought and coherent sentences vanished; she was conscious only of the orgasm finally tearing through her, shocks of white-hot pleasure tingling all the way down to her toes as she screamed his name.

And he didn’t stop, fucking her all the way through her climax. By the time he sped up, pounding her so hard and roughly that the table shook under the force of his thrusts, the initial waves had begun to die down, and she could feel his cock swell and pulse within her. It was enough to trigger a second, smaller peak; she moaned helplessly as he snarled and pumped her full of his hot cum, filling her up so completely that all she could do was tremble until he finally stilled.

For a long little while, all Jaina could focus on was breathing as the aftershocks rippled through her. “…Wow. That was…wow.” Definitely better than Arthas. She wasn’t sure she could move; the delicious stretch of Kael’s cock inside her was surely something she’d feel for a week.

Not that she really wanted to, because Kael’thas had buried his head in the crook of her neck and was panting lightly as he slid his softening cock out of her, making her keen softly at the loss. “…You are perfect.”

“You are…” She winced a bit and shifted, rocking her hips lightly against him. Now that the pleasure had ebbed somewhat, she was rapidly realizing that the solid warmth of his body was much less comfortable when it was pinning her flat to a hard surface.  “…Actually, sort of squashing me. Do you think you can move so I can sit up?”

“Oh. My apologies.” Evidently he was a bit less graceful after sex; she turned in time to see him stumble and catch himself on the arm of the couch, leaning against it in a way that suggested he was still working out how knees were supposed to go.

She couldn’t blame him. All her muscles felt loose and disconnected, and it took a moment for her to roll over and heave herself upright. “It’s alright…mmm. Ow.”

He watched with concern as she pressed her hands to the small of her back, not bothering to hide her grimace. “Backache?”

“A little.” She eyed him—rumpled, half-dressed, still a little hard—and licked her lips. There were _definitely_ a few things she still wanted to do with him. “…Why don’t we move from here into your bedroom? For, um. For later.”

He looked as though Winter Veil had come early, face breaking into a broad grin; that was all the warning she got before he wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up off the table. She squealed in surprise, clinging tightly to him as he carried her into the next room.

&

It was later—much later, after he’d finally gotten to pin her down and pound her into the mattress until she howled, after they’d taken the briefest break to conjure food and water, after she’d gotten a devilish look in her eye and told him that, _by the way_ , she was still terribly curious as to what else he could do with his tongue besides incantations (he’d been glad to show her, and when she came hard against his mouth he was sure nothing else would ever taste as good)—that they finally, finally caught their breath together, sprawled in his huge canopied bed; as he stroked her hair back from her face, he managed to string together his first coherent sentence in hours.

“…I love you.”

Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to have said that. Judging by her widening eyes, she hadn’t been expecting to hear that, either. He wondered if it was too late to teleport to the bottom of the Great Sea.

Her voice was very quiet, even to his ears, as she responded. “You know, Arthas told me that, too. And then he broke up with me the next morning.”

His ears pinned back so hard that the muscles ached. “I am _not_ Arthas. _He_ was a ridiculous little _boy_. I would—I would marry you, if you wished, bring you to Quel’thalas on my arm, and if my father doesn’t like it he can go _rot_.”

She smiled, then, slow and sleepy. “I know. I believe you. It was just a surprise; I didn’t think you felt like _that_.” Her sigh was huge and gusty and blew warm air against his face; as she slid a knee between his legs she added, “I don’t know if I can call my feelings love yet, but…you are very, very important to me.”

His ears lifted, and he was leaning in for a kiss when she grinned and asked, “Now, pass me that bunch of grapes?”

What else could he do but obey?

 

**Author's Note:**

> This may have spawned an entire AU which shall remain in my head, featuring eventual Thrall/Jaina/Kael, Illidan/Jaina/Kael, and a world in which the Alliance and Horde remain in a state of peace forged mainly by their leaders being "very good friends," even though the Scourge and associated wars are still a thing. Theramore, Silvermoon, Grommash Hold, and the Black Temple all have beds that can fit at least four people.


End file.
